To Start Afresh
by Elensaa
Summary: AU. No Magic. Harry Potter is the new boy in school, and he catches the eye of the school’s most popular boy. But when Harry’s most dangerous ghost catches up with him, will Draco survive where another didn’t? Warnings: abuse, rape, death, SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own anything from Harry Potter. If I did, I would be rich, and writing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, not this fic.

**Summery:** AU. No Magic. Harry Potter is the new boy in school, and he catches the eye of the school's most popular boy. But when Harry's most dangerous ghost catches up with him, will Draco survive where another didn't? Warnings: abuse, rape, death, SLASH.

A/N: Hi! I've had the idea for this for years, ever since I read a really good non-magic fic, but I've never had the patience to write it down. But, it's finally gotten so annoying that I decided to finally write it. I really hope that you like it! Please review! I'd love to know what you think!

**To Start Afresh.**

Rain fell steadily from the grey cloudy sky, pattering softly on the pavement. The dark haired boy walked quickly down the road, the water trickling down his neck, inside his worn coat. Harry Potter shivered at the tickle of cold wetness making it's way underneath his shirt. He was stuck walking to school in the rain, while his whale of an uncle would drive his even fatter cousin.

The large black car sailed past as he turned onto the road to his school, purposely driving through a large puddle, and the slim boy had to jump hastily out of the way to avoid being splashed. Shaking his head slightly, Harry watched his cousin stick his fingers up at him through the water-streaked window.

Continuing down the road, Harry walked through two wrought iron gates and up to the main steps of the imposing stone building. Hogwarts High School was hundreds of years old, and one of the best schools in the country. He was amazed that he was allowed to come here, but when the police had arranged the family's move to Baywater, they had enrolled both Harry and Dudley in the same school, and his aunt and uncle had been unable to change it, despite their protests.

Heading inside the building, Harry wove around the hoards of students, both uniformed and not, depending on their year group. Finally finding the corridor housing the main offices (after asking directions from a red-headed girl), Harry walked up to his uncle and cousin as they waited outside the head's office.

"Took you long enough, boy," Vernon snarled out of the corner of his mouth.

Harry bowed his head and didn't bother to reply to the large man, moving away from Dudley as the large blond boy jostled his arm. The door to the office opened, and the pleasant face of an old man with a long grey beard poked out.

"Please, gentlemen, come in," he smiled.

The two Dursleys entered the office, followed by Harry, who entered far more slowly, standing behind the chairs in which his relatives had seated themselves.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we? I am Professor Dumbledore," the headmaster said as he sat down behind his desk. "I have enrolled both your son and your nephew in their courses Mr. Dursley, and have their timetables here. I understand that your recent move and the events of the past few months have taken their toll upon your family, and have ensured that all of our security measures are working correctly. Of course, your history has not been reported upon in Baywater, being as far away from Surrey as it is. I would like to say, however, that if there is any hassle from students who have heard of your situation, then I would urge you to see me as soon as possible. I also grant some, but not much, leniency in Harry's case. I know that you have suffered a great trauma lately, and this may cause you some problems in settling in, but I expect some good work from you, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded.

"What about my Dudley?" Vernon burst out. "He deserves more leniency than the boy! Potter's the reason we're here! Dudley has had to leave his friends, his coach-his whole life behind and come here! That is a huge upheaval!"

"Of course, Dudley may have some difficulties in settling in also," Dumbledore agreed. "But he has not suffered in the same way as Harry. I am hesitant to grant him much leniency in his behaviour."

"Of course he's suffered!" Vernon yelled, shooting a venomous glare at Harry, which was ignored. "He was stalked by reporters because of what Potter did! It's unfair to grant one lenience but not the other."

"I am inclined to disagree with you, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore's tone was icy. "I will grant him some leniency, but I still expect his behaviour to be upstanding."

He glanced at the silent emerald-eyed boy, who was staring at a photograph upon the wall. It showed the headmaster with four other teachers.

"That photograph shows myself with the four House heads. The students here at Hogwarts are sorted into four houses, teams, if you will. These houses compete against each other to accumulate points through playing sports, extra-curricular events and behaviour. However, bad behaviour can result in the deduction of points," he explained. "I have already taken the liberty of sorting the two of you into your Houses. I hope that you don't mind being separated?"

When he got no response, the aged headmaster continued. "Dudley, I have placed you into Hufflepuff. Their colours are yellow and black, and your Head of House is Professor Sprout. I understand that you are a sixth year student, and therefore able to wear your own clothes, but for identification reasons, I require you to wear this badge. It shows your House."

He handed the large blond boy a shield-shaped badge coloured yellow with a black badger upon it. Dudley looked at it in distaste and pinned it on his jumper.

"Harry," Dumbledore turned to him. "I have placed you into Gryffindor. The colours for this House are red and gold, and your Head is Professor McGonagall. Here is your badge."

Harry took the red badge with a golden lion emblazoned across it, and pinned it onto his worn, oversized black jumper.

"The remaining two Houses are Ravenclaw, headed by Professor Flitwick and supporting the colours blue and black, and Slytherin, headed by Professor Snape and supporting the colours green and silver. Now, here are your timetables," Dumbledore passed them to the two boys. "Your locker keys and numbers, and a map to enable you to move around the school with more ease until you are familiar with your surroundings. I hope you have a nice day, and I'm sorry to rush you, but your classes will be starting in a moment, and I have no doubt you would like to call at your lockers to lighten your loads. Mr. Dursley, if I may ask you to stay for a moment? I have some paperwork for you to sign."

Vernon nodded and turned to his son.

"Have a nice day son, I'm sure you'll fit right in and make lots of new friends," he boomed encouragingly.

Dudley merely nodded and followed his cousin out of the door, shutting it behind him.

"Well, Freak, it looks like it's back to old times," he hissed menacingly. "You have no friends to protect you now. You're mine!"

He brushed past his smaller cousin, banging his muscled shoulder painfully against Harry's, making his way down the corridor. Rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, Harry glanced at his locker number, and then glanced at the map to locate the correct bank. Luck was on his side as he realised that his locker was on the ground floor, in the same corridor as his first lesson, English.

Carefully following his map, Harry soon found himself standing in front of the purple fronted locker bank, inserting his key into number three hundred and ninety. He twisted the small metal key and the door sprung open. Quickly, he shoved his old coat into the small metal box. Shutting the locker, he walked down the hall as the bell rang. Moments later, the hallway was filled with the hustle and bustle of students rushing to class. Standing outside the door to his classroom, Harry watched the chaos around him. It was very much like Stonewall, his old school.

He was unsure as to whether to enter the empty classroom, and so decided to wait outside and see what the other students would do. He didn't have to wait long before a slim girl with half curly, half frizzy brown hair and a tall, gangly boy with red hair arrived.

"I don't know why you insist on practically running here," the boy grumbled. "McGonagall isn't even here yet."

"I like to be punctual, unlike some people," the girl answered, opening the door. "Besides, if we're here first, we'll get the best seats!"

"Let me guess?" the boy's tone was weary. "Right at the front?"

"Excuse me if I actually care about learning something!" the girl snapped waspishly.

Harry silently entered the room, unnoticed by the bickering teens and took a seat at the back. Getting out a battered notebook and an old biro, he settled himself in the chair, placing his bag under the desk.

Soon, other pupils came pouring into the room, all wearing the badges of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Houses. No one even seemed to notice him as they chatted to their friends and found seats. It was only minutes before the stern-faced professor strode into the room. Setting her books down at the desk, she picked up a clipboard.

"Quiet for the register!" she called. All noise in the room ceased immediately.

Harry could tell that this woman commanded the respect of the pupils, and sat, waiting for his name to be read out, dreading what would happen.

"Harry Potter?"

"Yes, miss," he answered, cringing when his classmates turned to stare at the new boy. He hung his head in shame as a girl pointed to his clothes and whispered something to her twin, who started giggling. His cheeks reddening, Harry damned the Dursleys silently for what was probably the thousandth time. They'd thrown away all of his decent clothes before they'd moved up here to Baywater, claiming that he didn't need such a big wardrobe, and leaving him with his old hand-me-down clothes that were far too big, having once belonged to his cousin.

The professor's voice rang through the room.

"Mr. Potter, welcome to Hogwarts," she spoke in precise, clipped tones. "I am Professor McGonagall, your Head of House. I'm sorry that I was unable to meet you in form this morning, but I am aware that you were in a meeting with the Headmaster. I'm so very glad that you are here."

"Thanks," Harry whispered, lowering his gaze from her piercing eyes. Her stare was making him uncomfortable. Finally, she continued the register, and Harry was left alone.

No one bothered him during the double lesson, as they were required to be silent while writing a composition in order for McGonagall to see their level of competence. Harry had trouble thinking of something to write, but after he found inspiration, the words came easily. Writing wasn't his forte, but he was adequate.

He spent the fifteen-minute break making his way through the corridors slowly, weaving around the clusters of students, heading towards the other side of the school to his next class, Science.

Again, he waited outside the classroom to see if there was anyone who entered before the teacher arrived. He knew from Stonewall that there were certain teachers who didn't let students into class before they arrived, and he didn't want to anger someone by entering without permission.

The bell rang, and within a minute Harry was joined by the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors, and what appeared to be the Slytherins, judging by their badges.

Not thirty seconds later, a sallow faced, hook nosed man dressed entirely in black arrived and opened the door for them. Filing silently into the room with the other students, Harry again found a seat at the back of the room, noticing that even the bushy haired girl didn't want to sit near the front in this class. Harry didn't blame her. The teacher didn't look like a pleasant man.

Taking out his biro and paper, Harry waited for class to begin.

Snape started by calling out the register, the list flowing easily from his thin lips until he reached Harry's name.

"Harry Potter!"

"Yes sir," Harry answered politely.

"Ah, our new _celebrity_," Snape sneered. "Don't hope for recognition up here, Potter. I don't care about your fame; you will work hard in this class. I will not make exceptions for you."

Harry cast his eyes down to the desk, not daring to reply. He didn't think he was a celebrity, he _hated _the fame that had been thrust upon him, and he certainly didn't want to slack. The better his grades, the better the chance he would have at getting a job or into university faster, and so getting him away from the Dursleys.

Snape's lip curled and he continued with the register, the last few names answered with timid 'yes sir's. No one wanted to risk the teacher's wrath now he'd shown himself to be in a bad mood.

"You shall complete a test during this lesson," Snape finally whispered in a deadly tone, the words audible in the silence of the room. "I shall mark these tonight, so I know just how little you imbeciles have remembered from last year. There will be silence."

He passed the test out, and Harry began when ordered. He found the first few questions relatively easy, but stared in horror at most of the questions in the second part of the paper. He didn't know any of this! He didn't even understand some of the terms used. Harry supposed that most of the material on this test had been covered at the end of last year, most of which he'd missed.

He placed a hand on his stomach. It hadn't been his fault that he missed school. He'd spent two and an half months in hospital, recovering, and the remaining two and a half months in and out of hospital and court.

No, no matter what the Dursley's said, none of it was his fault. Though, he did regret ever getting involved with…no. He had to concentrate. The teacher already appeared to hate him, and Harry was determined to do his best on the test.

Carefully, he answered as best he could, trying to guess the right answers by using logic, and the limited scientific knowledge he had.

Finally, the period was over, and Snape collected the tests before dismissing them, glaring hatefully at Harry.

Heading to the library during his free period, Harry pulled down a science book from the shelf, settling down to make notes on all the areas the test covered that he hadn't understood.

He emerged from the library part way through lunch, and found a small table at the back of the cafeteria to sit at. Opening his bag, he pulled out the small, battered sandwich his aunt had made for his lunch. Slowly, he began to eat it. The bread was rather stale, and he was sure the ham was the out-of-date one that was in the fridge yesterday, but it was more than he used to get at his old school. Harry knew she was only giving him lunch because the doctors had told her he needed to eat small amounts throughout the day instead of three large meals due to his injury. To his aunt, this translated as 'give him lunch as well as breakfast and dinner'.

Finishing the sandwich, he washed it down with the bottle of water she'd shoved at him before he left. Shoving the bottle back in his bag, he tossed his sandwich wrapper in the bin behind him, and sat watching the other students.

The bushy haired girl and her red haired friend were sitting with the girl who'd given him directions that morning, and three other boys. Harry suddenly realised the redheads were siblings.

Not too far from him sat an attractive blond who'd been in his science class with a few of his Slytherin friends. They all appeared rich and snotty, their clothes well-made from expensive fabrics. A girl spotted him staring and glared. He looked away.

It was then that he spotted Dudley making his way towards him with two hulking Slytherins following him.

'_Great,'_ Harry thought. _'He's found himself some bullies to boss about.'_

Dudley came to a stop in front of him, the two Slytherins lumbering to a halt, crossing their arms and looking menacing.

"All alone Freak?" Dudley smirked. "No friends following you about like adoring fans?"

The two boulders snorted. They didn't appear very bright. Even Dudley's old friends, Piers and Malcolm had more brains than the two of these boys put together.

"I told you that things would go back to normal now we've moved," Dudley sneered. "No one cares about you. Those weirdoes you used to hang around with will have forgotten you already. You're mine."

Thankfully, the bell rang, and Harry was able to escape to the Gryffindor common room for register.

As he sat down on a crimson couch, he was approached by the red head and bushy haired girl.

"Hi!" she smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger."

She stuck out her hand, and Harry shook it tentatively.

"Harry Potter," he replied.

"I know that," Hermione answered.

"Mione, the kid's new," the red head broke in. "He's not used to you knowing everything, don't scare him."

Hermione scowled, but didn't reply.

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," the boy stuck his hand out.

Once more, Harry shook it, though he was prevented from answering by McGonagall, who was demanding silence. Soon, Gryffindors' attendance had been called, and they were allowed to leave.

"Come on Ron, Harry!" Hermione ordered cheerfully. "We've got class now!"

"She's already learnt our timetable off by heart," Ron whispered to Harry. "Mind like a sponge, that one. Odd as anything, but a great friend."

As he followed her, Hermione began firing off questions.

"So Harry, where do you come from?"

"Surrey," he answered.

"Oh? Was it nice there?" Hermione asked.

"It was alright," came the reply.

"Why'd you move up here?"

Harry shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

"Just had to," he said.

"Did one of your parents get a new job or something?" she pressed.

"Not exactly."

They entered the room, and Harry felt a sinking feeling in his chest. It was an art classroom. It was an art class. Worse, it was an art class with Dudley in it.

He sat down next to Ron and stared at the desk. Hermione had finished her endless questions and was now complaining about Professor Trelawney, the teacher.

"Hello, my dears!" came a floaty voice from the door. "I hope that you're all ready to begin letting the creative juices flow! You'll see that in front of you, I've already placed a sheet of paper and some drawing pencils. I would like you to sketch the candles arranged on my desk. Don't forget to shade!"

With that, the woman sat down at her desk and beamed mysteriously at them all.

Harry felt sick. He couldn't do this. He'd sworn never to draw again. It was his drawings that had gotten him into trouble in the first place. No, he couldn't break his vow.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked, concerned for the pale boy next to him.

Harry started and looked up with huge, horror stricken eyes.

"I can't," he whispered.

"Is there something wrong, dears?" Trelawney had floated over. "Why aren't you drawing, child?"

"I can't," Harry whispered again.

"Of course you can, dear," Trelawney frowned. "Even if it's not very good, you could still try."

"No, you don't understand!" Harry leapt to his feet. "I can't!"

"You mean won't," Dudley jumped in from the other side of the room. "You can draw, you just choose not to."

Harry had had enough. It was too much for him, and he fled the room.

Running through the corridors, he didn't notice the boy until he crashed into him. Luckily, the boy was larger and stronger than him, and managed to steady them before they fell.

"No running in the corridors!" he snapped. "Free time must be spent in the library or your common room. Or are you meant to be in class?"

Harry looked up to see the attractive blond from his science class. He had pale skin and intense grey eyes that softened in concern upon seeing Harry's panicked face.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked.

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Harry gasped out. "Can you take me to him?"

The boy nodded and began to lead him in the opposite direction. Something clicked in Harry's mind.

"If free periods are supposed to be spent in the commons or library, why were you in the corridor?" he asked.

"I'm a prefect, I was doing my rounds," the boy answered snobbishly. He glanced at Harry sideways. "Aren't you the new kid?"

"Harry Potter," he mumbled.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," the blond answered.

"Nice to meet you," Harry glanced at him. "Sorry for running into you."

"No problem, I can tell you were upset," Draco shrugged. "Here you are, headmaster's office. See you around Harry."

"Bye," Harry replied before knocking on the door.

A/N: Well, what did you think? Don't worry, more will be revealed about Harry's past as the story goes on! Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Harry Potter, JK Rowling owns it all. I make no money from this story.

A/N: Hey again! I know, I know, I should be updating something else, but I'm so into this right now, and I'm really happy with the feedback from this! It's wonderful! Thanks for all the reviews!

Anyway, I thought I'd get this up soon, so here it is!

**Ch. 2.**

_Soft, gentle touches on his body. Wet lips trailing across his neck. A whisper of breath on his skin. The movement above him was insistent and slightly painful, yet loving and welcomed._

_Harry sighed in happiness and looked up into caring brown eyes._

Harry's bright green eyes snapped open, searching through the dim light in his tiny bedroom. Sighing, he realised that it had just been a dream. A dream that was once a reality.

Rolling over, he grabbed his glasses and put them on, glancing at the clock. Seeing that it was half past six, he decided to get up.

Climbing in the shower, Harry reflected on the previous day. After Dumbledore had promised to look into the art situation, Harry had been allowed to spend the rest of the double period in the library, where he'd finished his science notes.

Halfway home, he'd called into a grocery shop for an apple since his stomach had started to hurt. The doctor had warned him against going too long between snacks, and had advised him to eat small and light every couple of hours, rather than three meals a day. No chance of that at the Dursley's, but now that Harry was sixteen, he had access to the money his parents had left him. Knowing that he should save for his future, Harry promised to himself that he would only withdraw small amounts at a time, to make life easier for himself.

After eating his apple during the rest of his walk, Harry arrived home and snuck up to his room. He had no homework, but he fancied a short nap as the first day had made him tired.

At half five, Harry had gone downstairs to make dinner. His aunt was watching television in the living room with Dudley, who had taken longer than Harry to walk home due to his size. Vernon, who had gone to work after enrolling the boys, would be home at six, and would expect his meal to be ready at the end of the news.

Sure enough, Vernon came straight to the table at half past six, where Harry was placing two large plates of toad-in-the-hole and vegetables. Returning to the kitchen, he brought out Petunia's slightly smaller plate and a jug of gravy, before producing his own small scoop of vegetables, one sausage, and the last of the batter. His portion was only a quarter the size of his uncle and cousin's, but he was used to it.

After the meal, Harry cleaned the kitchen, and was about to head back upstairs when Dudley dropped the bombshell.

"Dad, Harry made a scene in art today," he said conversationally. "He refused to do the work and ran out of class."

"BOY!" Vernon thundered.

Harry winced and entered the living room. He was only allowed in there when invited.

"Yes sir?" he asked, eyes trained on the floor.

"What do you think you are doing, you little freak, showing us up at school?" his uncle roared. "Making a scene! You should be keeping your head down. I don't want you attracting more trouble!"

"I'm sorry sir, I had an attack during art," Harry mumbled. "I couldn't deal with the situation, and handled it badly."

"That's no excuse!" his uncle had gone purple. "I don't want you showing us up!"

"I'm truly sorry sir," Harry pleaded. "I spoke with the headmaster, and he's said he'll try to find a solution that will allow me to stay calmer."

"Well, it'd better not happen again, or there'll be trouble!" Vernon warned.

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered obediently.

"Get to your room, I don't want to see or hear you until morning!" Vernon had already turned back to the television.

Harry had trudged back upstairs and revised his notes, before falling asleep.

Finishing his shower, Harry dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist while he returned to his room. Mindful of the broken hinge, Harry carefully opened the door to his small, battered wardrobe.

Rifling through his clothes, he emerged with boxers and socks (neither of which had ever belonged to Dudley, thank god. Petunia didn't like the idea of passing down underwear, and Harry's feet were smaller then Dudley's), old blue jeans that were far too big, and a green t-shirt, whose sleeves hung to Harry's elbows.

Turning away from the mirror to avoid catching sight of the large, ugly scars on his stomach and chest, Harry pulled the clothes on and brushed his hair. Opening the curtains, he saw that the day was dawning warm and bright, so there was no chance of him wearing a jumper to hide his wrists.

Going back to the wardrobe, Harry pulled out a blue jumper to tie around his waist, just in case, and fished out one of the only articles of his own clothing the Dursleys had allowed him to keep.

It was a pair of half gloves that Cho had made for him. She'd been in his specially talented class at Stonewall, and was a fantastic clothes designer. She'd made these especially for him when he was in hospital. They were the same deep green as his eyes, and began on his knuckles, finishing mid forearm. There were holes for his thumbs, and a band of elastic at the top, stopping them from sliding down and revealing the pink scars on his skin.

After cleaning his glasses, Harry was ready to start the day. Grabbing both his school bag and P.E. kit, he made his way downstairs to start breakfast.

It was quarter past seven when the Dursleys arrived in the kitchen, and Harry was just about ready to dish up the bacon, eggs and toast he'd cooked. Serving Uncle Vernon his coffee, Harry helped himself to a slice of toast.

Finishing his breakfast, he hurried back upstairs and cleaned his teeth, coming back to clear the table. Dudley had since gone to get showered and dressed, and Vernon warned Harry again not to cause trouble at school, as he got his drink and sandwich out of the fridge.

Returning to the hall, Harry sat on the bottom of the stairs to pull his battered trainers on-again these were all his own. As he picked his bag up, Dudley came down and began to complain about walking to school. The door clicked shut behind the Gryffindor as Vernon agreed to drive Dudley on his way to work.

Harry called at the shop again on his way to school, and picked up a bag of crisps for break, and an apple for after school. He'd decided to follow the doctor's advise about eating regularly after his stomach had hurt yesterday.

Arriving at school, Harry headed straight to the Gryffindor common room for form. He entered the room and was immediately accosted by Hermione.

"Good morning, Harry!" she wrapped her hand around his elbow. "Come and sit with us."

Harry felt awkward as she led him to the corner where Ron and his sister were sitting. Hermione was obviously trying to make friends with him, and make him feel welcome, yet Harry just wanted to be left alone.

Sitting down, he tried to blend into the background, but Ron decided to talk to him.

"Hey mate! This is my sister, Ginny," he smiled. "Gin, this is Harry."

"Hello," Ginny smiled flirtatiously.

Harry nodded in response.

"What happened in art yesterday?" Hermione asked. "You didn't appear too well."

"I, er, didn't feel too good," Harry lied. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"You're ok now, though, right?" she pressed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry shrugged.

"You didn't finish telling us about why you moved up here," Hermione leaned forward attentively.

"Yeah, why did you?" Ginny asked. "Not that it's a bad thing you've come here."

"Was it your parents?" Ron now joined in. "Did one of them get a new job?"

"No, I don't live with my parents," Harry didn't want to talk about this.

"Who do you live with then?" Ginny looked confused.

"My aunt, uncle and cousin," Harry mumbled.

"Oh! Is your cousin the other new boy?" asked a blond boy who was sitting nearby.

"That's Neville," Hermione explained. "He's in our year. Along with Seamus and Dean, those two there."

She pointed to a sandy haired boy and a black boy on their other side.

"Lavendar and Parvati are in your year too, but they're too interested in make-up to pay attention to us." Ginny pointed to two girls across the room. One of them was one of the twins who had laughed at his clothes the day before.

Harry nodded at them all, and went back to staring at the floor.

"So, is your cousin the new boy? Other new boy?" Neville asked again.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Why?"

"I just wondered," Neville replied. "I saw him yesterday, bullying some lower year Hufflepuff. He didn't seem too nice. Especially since he has Crabbe and Goyle following him around."

"Dudley's always been a bully," Harry said, feeling a sudden like for this boy. He disliked Dudley too. "Just ignore him."

"Oh, I would. But you should warn him, it's not a good idea to bully in Hogwarts," Neville shifted closer. "He'll end up on Draco Malfoy's bad side."

The others all nodded quietly.

"Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked. He'd met the boy yesterday, and he seemed nice enough.

"He's the richest boy in school," Hermione explained.

"Back when we first started school, he was the most arrogant little snot ever," Seamus continued.

"Crabbe and Goyle used to follow him around," Ginny took over. "They can't think for themselves. Thick as pig shit, and just as nasty."

"They knew him from childhood and thought he was a bully, just like his father," Dean picked up the thread.

"My family and his have never gotten on, so I tend to stay away from him," Ron put in. "But after a couple of weeks, he ditched Crabbe and Goyle for his new friends, Parkinson, Zabini and Nott."

"He's mellowed a lot now," Hermione again. "I think being around people less privileged than himself has given him a better outlook. But he can still be arrogant."

"Crabbe and Goyle tried to bully some kids once," Seamus now. "Malfoy came along and shut them down completely."

"He just glared at them, and told them to stop it," Neville grinned. "They never tried it again."

"That glare," Dean shuddered. "I think he could send the devil running for cover with it."

"He's actually really popular," Hermione finished. "For someone who was once so arrogant, he's quite nice. He has his moments, but he's really smart and good-looking. He has the power in the school, and can use it for whatever he wants. No one crosses him."

Harry nodded, taking all of it in.

"Quiet, please!" McGonagall was sitting at her desk, the register spread out in front of her.

It took several minutes for her to take attendance, as she had to fill in sections for each of the seven years. It was quarter past when the teacher finished, and the bell rang for first lesson.

Harry was swept along with the others from his year, Ginny going her own way.

"Double science first!" Hermione sang.

The others all groaned and Harry swallowed with difficulty. Snape _hated_ him, and his test was awful. He knew this lesson was going to be hell.

"Oh, come on! At least we get it over with," Hermione sounded frustrated. She spotted Harry's expression. "Don't worry, I know Professor Snape's sour, but he hates all the houses, except for Slytherin. He's just annoyed because you're new. Everyone wants to get to know you, and he probably feels you're taking people's attention from the lesson. It'll stop in time."

Harry wasn't convinced, but nodded anyway.

"So, why don't you live with your parents?" Dean asked. "I was going to ask, but we got off topic."

"They're dead," Harry answered shortly. "I don't remember them."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment.

"I don't live with my parents either," Neville pushed to Harry's side. "They're in a mental institution. They were tortured to insanity by a woman named Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Bitch!" Harry spat.

The others looked around, shocked.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "She killed my godfather a few years ago. He'd just been released from prison for a murder he didn't commit, and she killed him."

Neville nodded.

"Yeah, she's awful," he said. "Good thing she got what was coming."

He was referring to Bellatrix's life imprisonment. The judge at her trial for Sirius' murder gave her a life sentence, with recommendation to never get released for good behaviour, like she had been during her sentence for her deeds upon Neville's parents. She wasn't going anywhere. Harry was surprised Neville knew about that, but then he supposed he'd like to keep track of the person who tortured his parents, if that had happened to him.

They reached the classroom, and stood waiting to be let in. Snape soon appeared, the Slytherins trailing behind him.

"He's Head of Slytherin," Ron whispered. "That's why he favours them."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment and entered the room with everyone else, trying to escape to the back of the room, but ended up being pulled onto the same bench as Neville. Ron and Hermione were sat in front, with Seamus and Dean behind.

The class sat in silence while Snape took the register, then nervously waited as the teacher picked up the pile of tests from his desk and stood up.

"I have marked your tests," he scowled. "Some are better than others, and some are extremely poor. I _suggest_ that those who scored under eighty per cent read over their notes from last year."

Harry gulped, knowing his score would be the lowest in the class.

He stared at the desk as Snape moved around handing out the tests. Finally, only one test was left, and a shadow loomed over the table. Harry remained quiet and didn't look up.

"Mr. Potter, can you please explain what this abysmal thing in my hand is?" the dour man sneered.

"My test, sir," Harry whispered.

There was a tap on the door, but Snape chose to ignore it. He was too busy being incensed by Potter.

"Potter, did I, or did I not explain to you yesterday that I demand hard work in this class?" Snape asked.

"You did, sir," Harry could feel the stares of the whole class.

"Then would you care to explain why you decided not to answer half of the questions on your test?" Snape threw the booklet on the table in front of Harry.

The green eyed boy winced when he saw the score. Twelve per cent. It was worse than he expected.

"I didn't know the answers, sir," he replied quietly. "I've never seen half of this material."

"Potter, the material on this test was on the national syllabus for last year," Snape growled. "You will have learned this at your last school. You are nothing but a liar, and as such, will retake this test in detention Monday evening and ten house points will be tak-"

"Now, now, Severus," came a voice from the door.

After his knock had been ignored, Dumbledore had entered and watched the whole scene.

"That will not be necessary. Mr. Potter missed most of his lessons last year, and therefore I believe that he has, indeed, not seen this material. Perhaps, it would be better to arrange a way for him to catch up on what he does not know?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus nodded, and with one more malicious look at Harry, headed towards the door.

"I actually came to speak to Mr. Potter," Dumbledore smiled. "May I see you outside?"

Harry immediately stood up and followed the old man into the corridor, the door closing behind him.

"Harry, I have spoken to Professor Trelawney about yesterday's incident," the headmaster said gently. "She has offered to let you study the history, styles and techniques of art, rather than taking part in the practical side of things. That's the best I can do, I'm afraid."

"Thanks sir," Harry smiled. "I can handle that, I think. It's just the practical stuff I can't do."

"Of course," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now, you'd best be getting back inside before Professor Snape gets upset."

Harry nodded, and opened the door. As soon as he stepped back inside, Snape turned to him.

"Potter, Mr. Malfoy has agreed to tutor you in Science to help you catch up," he smiled, showing yellowed, crooked teeth. "You must arrange a suitable time with him for your lessons. I will let him know what you need help with, and you will be re-taking the test in a month's time. If you do not achieve over eighty per cent, you _will_ be in detention. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered and sat back down.

For the rest of the lesson, Snape began to teach them about atoms. Harry studiously copied down drawings, and used a periodic table to draw examples of different element atoms.

Break finally came, and as he left the classroom, Hermione grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the yard with the others.

"Potter!" came a shout from behind him.

Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy behind him, his own friends hanging back a bit.

"Can I have a word?"

Harry nodded and detached himself from Hermione, taking a few paces towards the blond Slytherin.

"I was wondering if you were free tonight?" Draco asked. "For your first study session?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I have to be home for half five, but I can stay until about five. Do you want to meet in the library?"

"The library closes at half three because it's Friday," Draco shook his head. "I would say we could go to mine, but Mother's having some dinner party tonight, and doesn't want me home until tomorrow. I'm staying at Blaise's overnight, but his mum has a thing about not having anyone arrive before dinner's over. I was thinking of hanging round town and eating in a restaurant, but since I'm now your tutor, I thought I could come study at yours instead."

Harry paled slightly at the idea, but swallowed and took a breath.

"I'd have to ask first," he answered. "Is there a payphone anywhere?"

"Here, use my mobile," Draco pulled out a silver flip phone. "Just don't let any teachers see you with it. I don't want it confiscated."

Harry moved closer to the wall and dialled the home phone, tucking the phone close to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Aunt Petunia, it's me," he replied.

"What do you want?" Petunia snapped.

"I've been given a student tutor by my science teacher to help me catch up on what I missed last year. He wants to come over to study tonight. I was wondering if that's ok? The library's closed, you see."

"Fine! But you work in your room," was the answer. "I don't want you making a mess in the kitchen."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

The line went dead and Harry hung up.

"Thanks," he handed the phone back. "She said it was ok."

"Great!" Draco smiled. "Well, we have P.E. together last. I'll meet you in the changing room, and we can head to yours from there, yeah?"

"Ok," Harry nodded.

"See you then," Draco headed off.

Harry turned to see that Hermione and Ron had waited. Neville, Dean and Seamus had obviously gone on without them. Hermione grabbed his arm again, and pulled him out onto the yard.

"Why did you miss classes last year?" Ron asked.

"You're not a truant, are you?" Hermione looked worried that he'd convince her to skip classes.

In Harry's opinion, nothing, not even death, could stop Hermione going to class.

"No," he replied. "I was sick at the beginning of this year, and spent a lot of time in hospital."

"Oh? What was wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry replied, pulling his crisps out and starting to eat them.

The subject was dropped, and they spent their beak in relative silence.

Their next period was a free, and they retired to the library, completing the homework Snape had assigned. It was relatively simple, they just had to draw more atoms, but these were slightly more complicated, as they had more rings to them.

The bell rang, and they made their way to History, Ron loudly wondering which war Binns would choose to teach them this year. From what Harry could work out, the history teacher only ever chose to speak about wars. It sounded rather boring to him. The Slytherins also had this class with them, and Draco nodded cordially at Harry from across the lecture theatre.

"That was completely useless!" Ron declared in the canteen at lunch. "He taught us World War One last year!"

"Well, we're learning about it more in depth this year," Hermione defended.

"Mione, you have to admit, it's a bit pointless," Dean broke in. "He just repeats the same lesson three times in a row, then moves on to repeat the next lesson another three times!"

"I suppose," Hermione nodded. "But it drills the facts into your head. You'll never forget it!"

"That's if any of us listen in the first place," Seamus grinned.

Harry sat quietly through all of this, eating his sandwich. It was cheese today. There was a bit of wilted lettuce on it, and the cheese had gone sweaty, but it was better than out-of-date ham. Harry would bet anything, though, that Dudley's lettuce was crisp, his cheese less slimy and the bread slathered in pickle.

Lunch was soon over, and after form, they headed down to the sports hall.

"All the houses have P.E. together?" Harry asked, seeing both Dudley and Draco standing outside the door.

"Yep!" Ron grinned. "Because the girls and boys split up, there's only a full class with all four houses. Half the boys from two houses give a regular sized house group, so to make numbers up, we all have it together. It's cool, actually. No girls and all sports!"

"But Ronald likes to _watch_ the girls," Hermione jumped in from his other side. "When he's in the net during football, and the play's on the other side of the field, he spies on whatever the girls are doing."

"I'm sixteen!" Ron protested. "I can't help it!"

They queued up and soon, a silver haired woman with odd golden eyes opened the door.

"Into the changing rooms, you lot!" she yelled.

Harry followed Ron into the boys changing room and quickly stuffed himself into a corner.

"I want you changed in ten minutes!" the large, bushy haired teacher called. "We're meeting up with the ladies today! Madam Hooch and I have prepared a special treat for today!"

Harry turned to face the wall, untying his jumper and dropping it on the bench. Opening his kitbag, he pulled out the old t-shirt he'd worn during the Tri-School Tournament. It was the only thing he owned that would be suitable for P.E., even though it had "Potter" displayed across the back in black letters. Luckily, he hadn't grown much since it had been made. Yanking off his t-shirt, he pulled his white sports top over his head as fast as possible.

Turning around, he saw that no one had noticed anything different about him, and sat down to take off his trainers. Slipping his trousers off, Harry pulled on his black Tri-School tracksuit bottoms and trainers. They were all custom-made by the organisers of the event to give each champion the best support for their feet. They were extremely comfortable, if a bit battered.

Finally, checking that no one was watching, he pulled off his green gloves, and replaced them with the large sweatbands from his Tri-School kit. He was ready.

They were led outside to the field behind the astro-turf, where a short obstacle course was laid out. The girls joined them a moment later.

"You're each going to attempt this course, and be timed while doing so," Hagrid explained. "The fastest boy and girl will be awarded ten house points, and five points will go to the runners up!"

"Ok! Get stretching!" Hooch yelled. "I want a proper warm up! No exceptions!"

Five minutes later, the teachers called a halt to the warm up.

"Who wants to go first?" Hooch called.

Dudley, who had worked his way up behind Harry, pushed his cousin forward.

"Show them how it's done, Champion!" he whispered maliciously.

Harry had hoped Dudley would leave him alone during this class, since he was sticking close to Ron, but no such luck.

"Ah! Potter, is it?" Hagrid beamed. "You're up first, it would appear."

He motioned to the starting point, a line drawn in the grass with white paint, and Harry stood behind it, preparing to run, his eyes scanning the first part of the course.

"Go!" Hooch yelled, clicking the stopwatch.

Harry was off before she'd even closed her mouth. He jumped the three hurdles smoothly, then threw himself forwards, sliding through the hole in the blockade, one hand over his stomach. Leaping to his feet even as he pulled them through, Harry grabbed the skipping rope and moved across the space before him. Using the bounce from his skipping to help him, he jumped up onto the box. Walking quickly along it, he jumped down, dropping into a roll on the mat to avoid twisting his ankle. His momentum brought him to his feet and he climbed up onto the balance beam, and he ran along it, arms out, eyes fixed on the next part of the course. Jumping off the beam, he quickly scaled the climbing frame and slid down the net on the other side. Grabbing the ball at the bottom, he sprinted to the basket at the finish line, tossing the ball in as he crossed.

"Well done, Potter!" Hooch called. "A great time!"

Hagrid reset the course as Harry walked back to his classmates, feeling a slight burning in his chest. Perhaps he'd overdone it. But the course was easy compared the one he'd done in the Tournament, and he'd felt that he had to go all out in order to match his performance.

Putting a hand over the lower right of his chest, Harry began some simple warm down exercises.

"That really was a splendid time, Potter," Hooch smiled. "Have you competed in obstacle courses before?"

Harry looked up and nodded.

"Well, they actually called it a gauntlet," he responded. "But it was the same technique."

Hooch caught sight of the T.S.T. badge on his shirt and smiled.

"I always wanted to take part in the Tri-School, but my parents wouldn't let me transfer," she commented. "How long ago did you?"

"Year before last," Harry replied. "When I was fourteen."

"A bit young," Hooch seemed surprised.

Harry shrugged.

"It was weird that year," he said. "Mine was the host school and a virus got into the system. Picked two names instead of one. Mine came out second. The program took it straight from the school's database."

Hooch nodded in understanding.

"How did you do?" she asked.

"Joint first," Harry huffed.

Hooch noticed his discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she frowned. "I didn't notice. Is it your…injury?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, you sit down and rest. We're not doing anything else this class anyway," she turned away. "Brown! You're up!"

Harry sat down, his hand still on his chest, and tried to breathe shallowly and steadily. The pain would fade soon; he just had to remember to take it easy from now on. He'd almost forgotten his problem, and now it had cost him.

As the class wore on, Harry's breathing eased, and he started to study his trainers. There was a fresh grass stain from his run on the course, but apart from that, they were the same as ever. He looked fondly upon a rusty stain on the toe of the left shoe. It was an old bloodstain from the third task of the Tournament. He'd dripped blood on it from a nasty cut on his arm during a brawl with another Champion.

Though he'd hated being picked for the Tournament at first, Harry had found himself enjoying taking part. He always had an adrenaline rush during tasks, which lasted him well into the night. It allowed him to party with the others afterwards. More than that, he'd grown closer to those in his class, and made friends for the first time in his life. It'd been one of the best things to happen to him, at the time.

An out of breath Ron suddenly plopped down beside him.

"Whew! That was hard! Would've been easy if we didn't have to race for fastest time!" he panted. "How did you do it so quickly?"

Harry shrugged.

"It's easy. There's a trick to it," he explained. "Think in the next moment, whilst acting in the present. Think about the next part of the course whilst completing the bit before."

Ron looked slightly confused but let it drop in favour of watching Hermione's turn.

"You're still first, though," he commented. "No one's gotten close to your time. You must have had practise!"

"That, or he's incredibly fit!" Seamus dropped down to Harry's side, having finished his warm down.

"Maybe both!" Dean grinned from where he was waiting for his turn.

Drawn from his thoughts, Harry decided to watch the rest of the class attempt the course.

Hermione achieved a brilliant time, probably the best the girls would get, and Draco managed to come five seconds behind Harry. Crabbe and Goyle achieved the same time (which happened to be the lowest), but Dudley had yet to take his turn. Harry rather felt that some of the equipment would break under his colossal weight. He also thought it would be funny if his cousin was too large to fit through the hole in the blockade.

Finally, Hannah Abbott finished the course, coming third of the girls, and it was Dudley's turn.

"Mr. Dursley! It's your turn!" Hooch yelled.

"How do you know my name?" Dudley asked, obviously trying to buy time.

"There are only two new students in sixth year, and I've already met Mr. Potter," the teacher replied. "It was obvious who you were. Now, get up here for your turn."

"No, I can't," Dudley replied.

"Why not?" Hooch asked.

"I'm a boxer," Dudley answered. "I'm built for strength, not speed. I don't do this sort of thing."

"A boxer must also be agile," Hooch's eyes were narrowed. "Now, come up here and show us your agility."

"No!" Dudley crossed his arms and glared.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid thundered. "You will come up here and complete this test _now_, or you will do it in detention every night next week!"

"You wouldn't force Harry if it was him and not me!" Dudley's chin rose defensively.

Harry felt like sinking into the ground.

"Harry didn't outright refuse, like you! He got on with it, despite aggravating his injury!" Hooch snapped. "Besides, Harry is a true athlete. Unlike you, he competed in one of the most difficult sporting tournaments in the world. A tournament most extreme sports and adrenaline junkies _dream_ of competing in. Only the fittest and bravest of people can hope to survive it!"

"Oh god!" Dudley scoffed. "He's not _brave_! You should've seen him back in Surrey, _hiding_ and _blubbering_ and-"

"ENOUGH!" Hagrid yelled. "Fifty points from Hufflepuff and a detention on Monday! Complete this course now, or it'll be detention for a month!"

Miserably, Dudley trudged to the start line, throwing a spiteful glance at his cousin. Harry knew Dudley would be out to cause trouble for him from now on. And that was not a good thing.

Students were staring back and forth between the pair, and Harry knew they were wondering about how Harry and Dudley knew each other, and about the Tournament. Sighing, he realised he'd have a lot of explaining to do.

Dudley took nearly ten minutes to complete the obstacle course, due to the fact that he couldn't jump the hurdles or climb onto the box and beam. It was an abysmal performance, yet no one laughed. They all felt sorry for this pathetic lump of lard. The blond was almost in tears of rage when he reached the end.

"Ok! Ten points to Potter and Granger, who finished in one minute thirty two, and One minute fifty nine respectively," Hooch called. "Five points to Malfoy and Bones for second place, coming one minute thirty seven and two minutes three respectively."

"Changing rooms everyone!" Hagrid boomed. "Class ends in fifteen minutes!"

They headed back to the sports hall, the Gryffindors congratulating Harry and Hermione on the way.

Back in the changing room, Harry once more turned to the wall to change his top, and making sure no one would see his wrists while he changed their coverings. As he pulled his trainers on, he spotted Dudley glaring. Already he had the feeling the weekend wouldn't be pleasant.

The bell rang, and the changing rooms quickly emptied.

"See ya Monday Harry!" were Ron's parting words, and he too disappeared.

Even Dudley had left.

Harry looked around and found Draco in front of a mirror, fixing his hair.

"I'll just be a minute," he said, distracted.

Harry sat on a bench and waited for him to finish.

"Come on, Malfoy," came Hagrid's voice. "Your hair's fine."

"One second…There," Draco turned round, smiling.

Harry's breath caught briefly. He looked amazing when he smiled.

"Thanks Professor! Great lesson!" Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of the sports hall.

"Thank god for that!" the blond sighed in relief when they were outside. "I don't really like Hagrid. He's a bit odd."

"He seemed alright," Harry shrugged.

They stopped at Draco's locker so he could swap his P.E. bag for his overnight bag and set off towards Grizedale Drive.

Harry pulled his apple out of his bag and started to munch, one hand still caressing his lower chest. It didn't hurt to breathe now, but he was still wary of it.

"So, you and that Dursley boy know each other?" Draco asked.

"He's my cousin," Harry knew this would come up sooner or later.

"Poor you," Draco glanced sideways at him. "What did Hooch mean when she said you took part in some contest?"

"The Tri-School Tournament," Harry replied. "It's organised by the council down in Surrey, and a fitness company provide the equipment and come up with the tasks. Basically, three schools enter students, and one student from each school is picked at random by a computer program to compete.

"There are three tasks, and the Champions each try to win the cup and prize money. I got picked by accident. There was a problem with the program, and it accessed the school database, pulling two Stonewall students out to compete."

"Sounds cool," Draco grinned. "What were the tasks?"

"The first was a gauntlet run. A bit like an obstacle course, only this had moving parts and fires. It wasn't easy, or completely safe. There are forms for each Champion to sign, saying that they submitted themselves to the dangers, and wouldn't sue in the event of injury.

"Then the second task was set in a lake just outside the town. The organisers secretly trained friends and family of the Champions to dive, and took them down to the bottom of the lake fifteen minutes before the task began while we were still in the tent. We Champions had to swim from the shore to a platform in the middle of the lake to get flippers, goggles and torches, then swim to the bottom of the lake to 'rescue' our hostage. The only air we had was from the divers waiting every few metres with oxygen tanks. It was like scuba diving with someone else holding your tank. Obviously, the hostages were given plenty of air, but we only had an hour to find them and bring them back to the surface. It was definitely the scariest of all three tasks.

"The final task was a maze. We were let in through separate gates, which were locked behind us. We had to find the cup to win. The amount of points we had determined which order we entered the maze. It was massive, and creepy, especially as the task started in late afternoon and carried on well into the evening. We were each given flare guns in case we wanted to retire, or got injured. None of us understood how we'd be injured at the time, but once we got in the maze, everything changed.

"During the Tournament, we all grew close. Good friends. We talked, celebrated together, and opened the Christmas dance together, Fleur even taught me to swim for the second task! But in the maze, we all realised how close we were to the end. To victory. I think, subconsciously, we all desired it more than we realised. We worked so hard to find it, that when we saw each other in the maze, we turned on each other. Victor beat up Fleur, Cedric and Victor fought, then Ced and I did! In the end, we took it together. A draw for Stonewall. And it was like, none of it had happened. We were as friendly as ever. Victor and Fleur even came to our victory party. It was…unreal."

"It sounds amazing," Draco said. "I'd love to have seen it, or even competed."

"It definitely gave me a buzz," Harry nodded. "But I wouldn't recommend entering unless you're incredibly fit. It really tests your strength and stamina."

"Yeah."

They walked in silence for a moment, and as they turned onto Harry's street, Draco spoke again.

"Snape gave me a list of everything you've missed in form. It seems like you missed both summer and spring term last year."

"I did," Harry confirmed. "I was in hospital."

"Oh."

They entered the house, and took their shoes off.

"This way," Harry whispered, leading Draco up to his tiny room.

They walked through the door, and Harry shifted uncomfortably as Draco's cool grey eyes surveyed the room.

"I know it's not very big, but I don't need much room," he whispered. "I don't know where we can sit. There isn't enough room to put another chair at the desk."

"It's ok, we can sit on the bed," Draco grinned.

They settled themselves on the lumpy mattress, and Harry rooted in his bag for his paper and pen, while Draco pulled out a textbook and looked at the photos on Harry's bedside table.

There was one of a woman with long red hair and green eyes, with a man with messy black hair, glasses and hazel eyes. The picture was obviously taken on their wedding day with a guest laughing nearby.

"They're my parents and godfather," Harry told him.

Draco looked up to see Harry watching him.

"Who're these?" he asked, picking up a picture of Harry with three others.

"The Champions from the Tournament," Harry pointed to them in turn. "That's Fleur, Victor and Cedric."

"These?"

"Cho, Jess and Ced," Harry replied. "My friends."

Draco nodded, and cast a lingering look at the final photo, showing Harry and Cedric sitting close together under a tree.

"Ced was my boyfriend," Harry muttered, seeing the look.

"You're gay?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. Are you bothered?" Harry ducked his head.

"No, I am too," Draco smiled. "So, did you and he break up because you moved here?"

"No," Harry replied, still letting Draco's admission sink in. "He's dead."

Draco didn't know what to say, so he changed the topic, and they began their study session.

It was quarter past five when Petunia stuck her head around the door.

"Would you like to stay for dinner…?" she asked politely.

"Draco, madam," the blond smiled handsomely. "Yes, thank you. It's very kind of you to ask."

"No problem, dear," Petunia smiled. "Please, call me Mrs. Dursley. Dudley wants pasta for dinner, boy."

Harry nodded, and finished his sentence before standing up. Confused, Draco followed him to the kitchen and watched as he cooked the meal.

Dinner went well enough, with Dudley complaining about his P.E. teacher being cruel to him, Vernon complaining about work, and Draco and Harry eating in silence.

The Slytherin helped Harry clear the table after they finished eating, while the Dursleys retired to the dining room.

"You didn't eat very much, won't you be hungry later?" Draco asked as he dried the last of the pots.

"No, I'm not supposed to eat big meals, but small snacks every few hours," Harry shook his head. "I had an accident and it damaged my stomach badly."

Draco nodded.

"Well, I'd better go, thanks for the meal," the blond smiled.

Harry walked him to the door, waiting in the hall as Draco popped into the living room to graciously thank his hosts.

On the doorstep, Draco turned to Harry once more.

"Thanks again, I hope you have a nice weekend," he smiled. "I might see you around."

He headed off down the path, Harry closing the door behind him and sneaking off upstairs, a slight warm feeling in his stomach.

A/N: Owwww! My fingers hurt! This chapter is twice as long as the first and my hands have seized up!

I hope you all liked it! Please review! I want to know what you thought!

Love,

Len


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**I don't own anything from Harry Potter, and make no money from this story.

A/N: Hey again! Yes, it's an update! Finally! I'm sorry; I've been so busy. I know I promised more a couple of weeks ago, but a friend of mine died, and everything's been a bit messed up. Sorry again!

I'm so glad that this story is being liked! It's been in my head so long, I can't remember life without it! I'm so happy to finally write it down!

Anyway, on with the show!

**Ch. 3.**

Harry woke on Monday morning with a groan. He ached all over from the events of the weekend. Dudley had wasted no time after Draco had left to tell his parents exactly what had happened in P.E., with his own twisted spin on the tale.

Vernon had flipped and blamed Harry, calling him into the lounge and punching him to the ground, before ordering him to spend the weekend working for his aunt.

There was once a time when Harry would not have gotten off so lightly. Just two years ago, Vernon would not have hesitated to beat Harry into unconsciousness, and then force him into housework the next day.

That had all changed when Harry became friends with Cedric, Jess and Cho. They had brought out the confidence that had been hidden within the raven boy, and whenever Vernon threatened to hurt him, Harry had retaliated by threatening to go to the police.

Of course, Harry's confidence retreated after the events in January, but Vernon was still wary of harming the boy. After all, if he injured the boy's stomach and they had to take him to hospital, questions would be asked that would be difficult to answer. Plus, Harry still had an emergency number for the police.

So that was how Harry came to be lying in bed, a bruise on his jaw and his muscles aching from all the work he'd done in the garden that weekend.

Rolling out of bed, he crept into the bathroom for a shower. The hot water helped to loosen him up a bit, and by the time he'd dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey long-sleeved t-shirt, he was moving a lot better.

After he'd cooked the breakfast and snagged himself a piece of toast, the Dursley's came down, glaring at him. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, and started to clear up the kitchen.

"I shall pick you up from school on my way home from work, Dudley," Vernon boomed. "I want a word with that teacher of yours about letting the freak show you up."

Harry ignored him, and went upstairs to clean his teeth and grab his bag. Arriving back in the kitchen, he cleared the table and moved back into the hallway. He pulled his trainers on and went to leave, but Vernon called him back.

Harry stood in the living room doorway and listened to his uncle's rant about not embarrassing the family or showing Dudley up and getting his cousin into trouble in silence.

When his walrus-like uncle finally shut up, Harry gave a curt "yes sir" and left. As soon as he was outside he huffed, annoyed. He hated living with his relatives, but had no-where else to go.

Once again, he called at the shop for snacks and carried on to school. At the gate he met Draco who smiled as he climbed out of his large, silver, chauffeur-driven Mercedes.

"Thanks again for dinner on Friday!" he called. "I'll catch you later to work out the next study session, yeah?"

Harry barely had time to acknowledge him before the blond was swept away in a crowd of Slytherin students.

Calling quickly at his locker, Harry dumped some of the books he wouldn't need until later and made his way to the Gryffindor common room, where he sat in a quiet corner.

His peace was disturbed a few moments later, when Ron, Ginny and Hermione came in and headed straight for him. They settled round him and started an animated conversation over the events of the weekend. Obviously still trying to include him, Hermione turned to Harry.

"How was your weekend?" she asked, smiling.

Harry shrugged.

"Not bad. I just helped around the house," he answered.

"Hate to break it to you, mate," Ron cut in. "But that sounds like a right boring weekend."

"You forget, Ron, Harry's new here," Neville sat next to Harry. "He probably doesn't know where to go for entertainment in town."

"That's right!" Ginny exclaimed. "I could show you. We could go out tonight, if you'd like."

"No, thanks," Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I can't go out tonight."

"Tomorrow then?" Ginny wasn't deterred.

"No," Harry replied, continuing when she looked upset. "My relatives don't like me going out."

"They can't rule your life, Harry," Seamus had just joined them. "Don't let them lock you up. Live a little."

The sentiment was remarkably similar to something Jess had once said to him, and Harry had taken it on board then. He knew he couldn't let the Dursley's regain their former power over him, but he also knew he wasn't ready. Perhaps when he felt more comfortable with the village and his new…friends?

"Where did you get that bruise?" Hermione suddenly asked.

"I tripped and banged myself, that's all," Harry lied. Luckily, he was good at it. "I couldn't see where I was going properly 'cause I had my hands full."

The girl seemed to accept this, and Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief. He didn't want Hermione to find out about his home life. It was bad enough that Draco had seen that small portion last week. It was nowhere near as bad as it once was, but it still embarrassed him. He'd sort it out when he was settled.

Vernon may have thought that Harry's rebellious, independent streak was shattered, but it was still there, hidden beneath layers of pain and sorrow. He'd worked past that now; it was still there, but not as sharp as it was once. Once he was settled and a bit more comfortable in Baywater, the old Harry would reappear.

McGonagall arrived to take the register, and Harry soon found himself following Ron and Hermione to Maths with the Ravenclaws.

Professor Vector was a stout woman in her late fifties, her hair peppered with silver, and her blue eyes bright and sharp. She was very fair, starting the lesson with a recap on Simultaneous Equations from the end of last year.

The rest of the students were in the middle of a set of exercises when the teacher came over to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, here is a pack containing the last two term's course work," she placed a slim plastic folder on the desk. "There are instructions on the topics covered, and questions for you to answer. Take your time, I don't expect you to manage it all in the next week or two. If you need any help, you can always ask me or Miss Granger."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry smiled slightly.

Vector nodded and returned to the front of the class.

"Right! Does anyone need any help?" she asked, clapping her hands together. "Yes, Bones?"

The class passed quickly, and Harry soon found himself sitting in Geography, listening to Professor Sprout ramble on about her summer holiday in Africa. Quickly, he came to realise that in this class, he wouldn't be doing too much work.

Break was spent in the yard with Hermione and Ron, eating crisps and talking about their next class, History.

Harry watched in amusement as Hermione tried to justify Binns' approach to teaching, while Ron protested that repeating the same lesson over and over was just a sign of old age and incompetence.

Hermione was _not_ impressed.

"I cannot believe that you don't take lessons seriously, Ronald!" she screeched. "This is your education! It will help you in future! If you don't pay attention, you may miss something important!"

"I pay attention the first time he teaches the lesson, but I find it more productive to sleep the times he repeats it!" Ron defended.

"And how is _sleeping_ productive, exactly?" Hermione's eyes were narrowed.

"It helps me catch up on any sleep I've missed, and makes sure I'm fresh for the rest of the day," Ron nodded.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stomped away.

"Do you think she's upset with me?" Ron asked a few seconds later.

"No, not at all Ron!" Seamus stepped up and threw an arm around the redhead's shoulder.

"Why would you think that?" Dean appeared on his other side.

Harry chuckled at the apprehensive look on Ron's face and followed the others as the bell rang.

Forty-five minutes later, and the raven boy decided he agreed with Ron on the subject of History. Binns had indeed repeated Friday's lesson, and Harry couldn't have been more bored if he had tried. The old man's droning voice had left him feeling drowsy after ten minutes.

He was on his way out of the class when a hand grabbed his elbow. Whirling, he came face to face with Draco.

"Hey, can't talk long, but do you want to meet up tonight to study?" the blond asked. "We could go to the library?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "I have to leave at five, though."

"Why don't you leave at quarter past, and I'll get the driver to drop you off on my way home?" Draco grinned.

"You don't have to…" Harry wasn't sure about this. If the Dursleys saw him getting out of a car-

Wait. He'd already decided that he wasn't going to let them beat him down again. He knew it wouldn't be easy-it wasn't last time, but he remembered what life was like before his friends. He'd had nothing. No friends. No family. He was constantly starved and beaten. All the feelings of pain and loneliness made him feel ready to explode.

His life was his own, and he was in a new town. It was a fresh start, and he was going to show his relatives that they didn't control him any more. They thought they had him now. That his last, failed rebellion had taught him complete obedience.

They were wrong.

"You know what?" he changed his mind. "I'd like that, thanks."

"Ok," Draco grinned. "We have last class together, so I'll see you then!"

Harry nodded, and the two parted ways.

A/N: I know. Short. But, the next chapter will be longer! There's going to be a surprise character, and more talk between Harry and Draco!

Please let me know what you think!

Love,

Len.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter, nor d I make any money from this story.

A/N: Hey! Sorry about the wait! We had a bit of trouble with our internet connection, in that we had to get a whole new one, and them I got really busy with work, so I haven't been abe to update. I hope this is worth the wait, but it is a bit short, sorry.

Just to let you all know, the way Stonewall arranged the teaching of teach is how my old school used to, and yes, in my GCSE class, there were four people using the stove. Not fun.

Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad that you all enjoy the story!

On with the show!

**Ch. 4.**

Harry's free period was spent in the library with Hermione and Ron. The first half an hour was taken up by their maths homework, and Harry spent the second part working on his catch-up pack while Hermione read and Ron doodled, ignoring the dirty looks sent his way ever so often by their female companion. Lunch was a similarly awkward affair, with Hermione staunchly ignoring Ron, forcing Harry, Dean and Seamus to make conversation with them both without them needing to speak to each other.

After lunch was double technology.

"We do one tech subject a year," Hermione explained, leading the way. "First year, it was textiles, second year was graphics, third was electronics, fourth was woodwork, last year was plastics, this year is food, and next year is metalwork. It's really interesting, we get to learn about all these different crafts! In quite a bit of detail, too! Food tech should be really good, I'd love to learn to cook properly, I can do a few simple things, like preparing vegetables and cooking things from tins and the freezer, but to cook from scratch is going to be so exciting!"

"Here she goes," Ron rolled his eyes. "Everything about classes is exciting to her."

"Honetly Ronald," Hermione turned a burning gaze onto the redhead. "Just because I show some enthusiasm for my education does not mean I am strange and am to be despised."

"Of course not, Hermione," Ron mumbled derisively.

The bushy haired girl huffed and sat down at a station, Harry and Ron following suit, the raven boy trapped in the middle.

Taking advantage of the silence of his companions, Harry examined his station. He had a reasonable worktop, a drawer with different untensils and a cupboard filled with pots and pans. Assuming this was the same for everyone, he assessed the cooker situation. It seemed as though there was to be one between two, except for his station, which Hermione would have to share since she was on the end of the bench. Not too bad, considering. Stonewall had had four students per stove, and that was a nightmare he didn't want to revisit, thank you very much.

Draco and his friends sat down on the other side of the counter, and Harry smiled at the blond boy, delighted when he returned the gesture.

The teacher chose that moment to stroll into the room, and Harry looked up at the sudden hush.

"Professor Lupin!" he exclaimed, suprised. "This is where you're working now?"

"Harry!" Lupin smiled. "How are you? It's nice to see you in my classroom again."

The other students glanced at each other, confused. The new boy knew the teacher?

"I'm fine, thanks Professor," Harry replied. "It's great to be back in your classroom, you're a good teacher."

"Thank you," Lupin looked at the other students. "As you all know, this is my third year of teaching at Hogwarts, but before this, I spent several years working at Stonewall High, Harry's old school. Now, unlike Hogwarts, Stonewall students spent several weeks a year in each tech module. In first year, they studied Food, Textiles, Woodwork, Graphics and Electronics. Second year was the same, only Plastics replaced Woodwork, and in third year, Metalwork was the resistant material module. Now you see how we know each other, Harry spent time in my class every year."

"That doesn't sound like a very productive work schedule," Hermione commented, more interested in another school's system than how the teacher and student knew each other.

"Neither do I, Miss Granger, isn't it?" Hermione nodded, and Lupin continued. "That's one of the things that prompted me to leave. At least here you get a chance at a rounded knowledge, not the choppy curriculum Stonewall provided. Plus, I came to school here myself, and I was happy to be given the chance to come back.

"Now, I believe that we're here to learn about food. So, let's discuss some basic rules for the kitchen. Let's start with hygene."

Lupin took the class through the rules of personal hygene, such as hair tied back, no nail varnish and clean aprons, before moving on to talk about the health and safety proceedures to be followed with equipment, and advising them to tidy as they cooked, that way it was safer and easier for them. Finally, he gave them some advice on vegetable preparation.

"...and that's how to quickly and efficiently chop an onion!" he finished, putting the knofe down and gesturing at the diced onion with a flourish. "Any questions?"

No-one moved, and Lupin smiled.

"Okay, we're just about done for this lesson, all that remains is for me to hand out the exercise books. You get two with this class, one for recipies and one for theory work," He gestured to the two piles on his desk. "The small red one is the former, the large yellow the latter. Next lesson, we will be talking about the different food groups, and why it's important to eat a balanced diet. I will also be handing out the recipies for the dish we will be cooking in our next double period. It will either be a bolognaise, or a chillie. Once you have a copy of each exercise book and have written your name on both, you may go."

With that, he started to hand out the books, and Harry fnished labelling his just as the bell went, signalling the end of school. He glanced up to see Draco finishing writing his name with a flourish, before putting the books in his bag.

"Ready?" the blond asked.

With a nod and a wave to his new friends, Harry followed his tutor to the library.

It was bigger than he would have thought, filled with large bookcases and long tables. His old school library couldn't hold a candle to this place, he realised. Stonewall only had a small library, mostly filled with fiction books and a tiny reference section. The tables had seated six at the most, round and blue topped, not the great oak things here.

"I can't believe he expects us to cook next week!" Draco complained quietly as they sat down. "We've never even practised with chopping vegetables or anything!"

"Relax," Harry soothed. "Most people will have done prep at home for their families, Mr. I'm Too Rich To Do My Own Cooking. Lupin's a good teacher like I said, he'll be wandering around helping people, and you can always ask me. I'll help you."

"Thanks," Draco sighed. "I just can't believe he expects us to cook! I suppose that's how you learned, then? I mean, you cooked on Friday. And how do you know I'm rich?"

Harry chuckled at Draco's mini-rant. Obviously the boy didn't know what to think or ask first.

"Of course you're expected to cook, it's a cooking class," he started. "No, I learned to cook before I started at Stonewall. And hello! You have a chauffeur, wear designer clothes and I've heard tales of you. I don't think it takes a genius to realise you have money."

"Sorry, I tend to forget these things," Draco sighed. "I used to be such a snob, and then I came to school and met people less fortunate than me. It took a while for me to realise that money doesn't make a person, and I don't let it make me stand out. I just want to be seen as a regular teenager, I forget that I have things others don't, and it shocks me when people make some comment about it."

Harry stared steadily into the Slytherin's grey eyes and nodded.

"I understand," he gestured to his textbook. "But I don't understand all these chemical symbols. I don't get where all the numbers come from..."

Draco's lips twitched up into a small smile as he bent over the page and began to explain.

--

The silver Mercedes pulled up outside number sixteen, Grizedale Drive. The curtains twitched, and Harry stifled a smile. Petunia was watched for him.

"Thanks for the lift," the raven boy turned to Draco. "And for helping me."

"No problem," Draco smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you!" Harry hopped out of the car and walked up the drive, turning to wave at Draco as the car pulled away from the curb.

Sighing, he opened the door to face his aunt.

"Where have you been?" the horse-like woman snapped. "You do know you have dinner to cook, don't you?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry wandered through to the kitchen. "I was at school working with Draco. He just dropped me off. You saw his car."

"Don't lie to me!" Petunia snapped. "He's only sixteen, not old enough to drive!"

"He isn't no, but his chauffeur is!" Harry snapped. "He's very rich, and his father bought the car for him, and pays the driver!"

His aunt sniffed and turned to go back to the lounge and her precious Dudley.

"Just have dinner ready on time, or you'll be in trouble Boy!"

A/N: Sorry it's so short! Hope it was ok, though! Please review, I'd love to know your thoughts!

Love,

Len


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Sorry for the length of time between the updates, I've been really busy!

**Ch. 5.**

A few weeks passed, and Harry settled comfortably into his new school routine. He'd caught up in all his classes, and after Draco's expert tutoring, had retaken his Science test, the marks for which he would receive today.

He'd also allowed himself to grow closer to Ron and Hermione, the three becoming practically inseperable. They'd gone shopping, Harry using some of his inheritance to buy a few nice clothes. Cinema trips had also become a favourite outing and they often were found in the park on Sunday afternoons, the boys kicking a ball around while Hermione read.

Though, he was not yet comfortable enough to tell his new friends about his sexuality. Ginny's advances had cooled down in the past weeks, but they were still present, though she refrained from flirting in front of her mother the times Harry had gone to the Weasleys for dinner. He knew the only way to stop her was to tell her he was gay, but he just wasn't comfortable enough in his new surroundings yet. Soon, however, the time would come.

The Dursleys were not happy with Harry's new rebellion., having been sure the teen was firmly back under their control, but Harry was determined in his mission to show them he was no longer the timid little boy they'd turned him into, but instead an independant, strong young man who would pick himself up after a fall.

In fact, when Vernon had raised his hand to strike Harry for not having the evening meal ready on time, Harry had simply smiled and asked to borrow the phone so he could phone the police. Vernon had turned purple with rage, but hadn't tried to hit Harry since.

Unlike Harry, Dudley was not having a very good time at school. Ever since Draco had caught him bullying a couple of second year Ravenclaws, and had chewed him out, Dudley had been a laughing stock. Thinking about it always brought a smile to Harry's face.

// FLASHBACK //

_The two boys were just coming out of the library after spending a mutual free period studying. Harry was laughing at a joke Draco had told him, when the blond stopped suddenly. Peering around the taller boy's frame, the green eyed Gryffindor spotted Dudley cornering two young boys. Crabbe and Goyle were standing either side of the blond pig, their arms folded and constipated looks on their faces. Harry assumed they were supposed to be looking intimidating._

_"Give me your money!" Dudley snarled in the face of the smallest boy. The small brunet flinched, both from fear of the larger boy and the smell of Dudley's breath, which Harry knew from experience was not pleasant. In fact, it rather resembled rotten eggs._

_"I-I don't h-have a-any!" the boy whimpered. _

_"Don't lie to me!" Dudley balled his fist in the boy's shirt, pushing him against the wall, while the other boy positively trembled, terrified._

_"I don't get my pocket money until Friday!" the boy pleaded. "Please believe me!"_

_"Well, I don't," Dudley growled. "I'm going to smash your face in, and then I'm going to beat your little friend here up too, so you'll know not to mess with me in future! Got it?"_

_"Always so heavy-handed, no subtlety at all," Harry muttered with a sigh._

_Stepping around the blond's rigid form, Harry gazed up into Draco's face. He remembered what the others had told him on his second day, and was curious as to Draco's reaction to this scene._

_The boy's gorgeous smile had dropped from his face, a haughty smirk now firmly in it's place. The pale skin was frozen, like marble and his head was held high. Stalking forward, Draco exuded power and superiority. Stopping behind the five boys, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat._

_The two boys in Dudley's grasp instantly looked relieved, and Crabbe and Goyle turned around, fear upon their faces. Seeing Draco, they dropped their gazes to the floor and mumbled their apologies, promised not to bully anyone ever again, and ran for it._

_Harry watched, impressed at Draco's skill to instill fear into the two huge boys without so much as a word. _

_Dudley, however, had not heard Draco's cough, nor did he realise his two thugs had bolted. Instead, he tried to carry through on his threat, pulling his fist back to drive it into the smaller boy's face, but Draco easily intercepted the arm, using it to swing the pig-faced boy around to face him._

_Harry's eyebrows rose, shocked. Draco was stronger than he looked. A lot stronger, it seemed. Harry knew, again from experience, that Dudley was incredibly strong. _

_"What do you want?" Dudley grunted, his eyes landing on the blond. _

_"You need to learn some manners," Draco calmly retorted._

_"I don't need to be polite to a friend of the Freak," the pig replied. "You're probably just as much of a poof as he is. Now, I'm busy at the moment, so if you could piss off..."_

_"I don't think so, Dursley," Draco growled, his voice dropping in pitch as rage overtook his features. "I am a prefect, you do not speak to me in that manner. Now, you will apologise to these boys immediately. You will not bully any other students ever again, and you will apologise to Harry. I won't have you speaking to him like that."_

_"I don't have to do anything you tell me!" Dudley pulled his arm out of the Slytherin's grasp._

_"I'm a prefect, and you will do as I say," Draco's voice resembled the snake that was the emblem of his House. "Do what I have told you, and then we are going to see Professor Snape to see about your punishment."_

_Miserably, obviously seeing that he wasn't going to win, Dudley turned and grunted a short "sorry" at the two boys, before turning to Drco._

_"Well, let's go see Snape," he whined, annoyed._

_"You still need to apologise to Harry," Draco raised an eyebrow._

_"I'm not going to apologise to that Freak!" Dudley snarled. "You probably only want me to 'cause you're shagging him!"_

_"You know nothing!" fear shone in Dudley's face as Draco stepped forward. "I am not having sex with your cousin, as you very well know! My personal feelings for Harry aside, I will not see anyone spoken to like that! Now, apologise!"_

_The blond wrenched the pig around to face his cousin._

_"Sorry," the fat boy grunted, but his eyes glinted with the promise of later revenge._

_Harry raised an eyebrow in challenge and watched as Draco pulled his cousin around the corner, before going to check on the two Ravenclaws._

// END FLASHBACK //

For all of Dudley's whining to his parents, nothing actually happened to Harry. His relatives were once more scared of Harry's confident streak, and refused to do anything to hurt or endanger him for fear of him informing the police.

Sighing, he sat down next to Neville in Science, and waited for the class to begin. Snape sneered at him as usual, and Harry felt a flash of fear. Today, he would receive the results from his test retake, and he knew that if he hadn't passed he would be in serious trouble, not just from the snarky teacher, but also from Draco. The blond would not be pleased if several weeks worth of tutoring had amounted to nothing.

The day's task began, and Harry bent over his worksheet, concentrating on the difficult equations mapped out on the crisp white paper. There was a rush of air and a slight slapping sound. The emerald eyed boy glanced up and spotted his test paper on the table in front of him. Swallowing, he focused on the red ink number circled at the top. 97 per cent. Perfect.

Releaved, the raven boy returned to his work, and slight smile on his face.

---

"I assume that the smile on your face is because you passed?" the drawling voice made Harry jump as he exited the room with Ron and Hermione.

Turning, he saw Draco leaning casually against the wall behind the door.

"Well, I suppose you could say I passed..." Harry held the paper up, showing his blond friend the score.

"I knew it!" Draco snarled triumphantly. "You know, my mother has been on about meeting you. She likes to know my friends, and she wanted me to invite you for dinner on Friday. Think of it as a congratulations for passing your test party!"

"Well..." Harry hesitated for a moment, then decided to let the Dursleys to fend for themselves for a night. It wouldn't hurt them. "Ok, thank you."

"Cool," Draco pushed himself away from the wall. "I'll let you know the arrangements tomorrow."

----

Harry gazed in awe at the massive house in front of him. He'd just climbed out of Draco's car and was now standing on the front steps, staring at the mansion Draco called home.

"Wow," he muttered.

"It's better on the inside," Draco grinned, walking past and opening the huge wooden door.

Following, Harry decided that he needed a few more pairs of eyes. The interior was beautifully decorated, and the twisting passageways were all spacious and airy.It took a few minutes t reach Draco's room, and Harry gasped when he saw the sheer size of it.

The young Malfoy had a small sitting area arranged around a large fireplace, there was an old oak desk with a comfy leather chair situated under a big window overlooking the back gardens, and there was a huge four poster bed virtually opposite the door. On the other side of that, were two doors, which Harry could only assume led to an ensuite and a walk-in wardrobe, seeing as there were no wardrobes in the main room.

"What do you think?" Draco asked, flopping into an armchair near the small fire crackling in the grate.

"It's...big," Harry was overwhelmed. "Nice, though."

"I know it's bigger than yours, but my dad earns a lot from the business, plus he inherited from Grandfather." Draco shrugged. "Sometimes, it feels too big. Especially when my parents are away. When I'm on my own, I don't know what to do with myself. The place feels like a museum."

Harry moved over and perched on the sofa. It was very comfortable, and he sank into the pillows immediately. In fact, he rather suspected that he wouldn't be able to get up if he stayed there too long.

The two boys spent the next two hours in deep discussion about the Hogwarts football tournament, which would take place between the Houses. A deep tolling bell somewhere deep in the manor disturbed them.

"That's the dinner bell," Draco explained,standing. "It's much easier to ring rather then go hunting for everyone. This is a big house, after all."

Harry nodded in understanding, and followed his companion out into the winding hallways.

---

They had reached the dining hall in a matter of minutes, and nerves had flared in his chest as soon as he saw Draco's mother waiting for them. It was ridiculous, though, it wasn't as if he was meeting Draco's parents because they were dating. They were just friends.

Narcissa Malfoy was a regal woman, who wouldn't have looked out of place in a royal court. Her shining blond hair was piled loosely on the top of her head, her blue eyes shone with hidden intelligence, and her lilac silk dress flowed elegantly to the floor.

Appearances, however, are deceiving, and Draco's mother was a kindly person, not at all the cold statue she seemed at first glance. Her ready smile was warm, and she ruffled Harry's already messy hair when he blushed and stuttered when he was introduced.

The three of them waited for almost ten minutes before Draco's father strode into the room.

Lucius was, unlike his wife, exactly as he appeared, except even more ferocious. He seemed to instantly hate Harry with a passion, and the poor raven boy wished he was anywhere but in the same room as the man. At least he'd worn some of his new clothes, an long sleeved green tshirt and some dark jeans.

Nervously, Harry picked at the rich casserole that the manor's kitchen staff had prepared, feeling Lucius' murderous gaze upon him from the head of the table. Keeping his eyes lowered, he fought the feeling to flich back and hide behind Draco's larger frame. Finally, about half way through his plate, Harry gave up. He couldn't eat any more. Putting down his fork, he wiped his mouth on his napkin.

"Do you have a problem with our food?" Lucius' voice cracked down the table like a whip.

"No, sir," Harry assured him. "It's lovely."

"Then why are you not eating it?" Lucius' grey eyes bore into green. ""Is it not rude to refuse food from your host?"

"Father!" Draco snapped. "Harry has an injury to his stomach, he cannot eat large portions. Leave off him!"

The two Malfoy men glared at each other for several moments, before Lucius nodded coldly, turning back to his plate. Harry knew now, how Dudley had felt on he receiving end of Draco's wrath. It was obvious he'd inherited his father's temper, but also normally had his mother's demeanor.

After the meal, Draco escorted Harry to the door, where the car was waiting to take the rave boy home.

"Don't worry about Dad," he assured his friend. "He's always like that at first, he'll come around."

"I hope so, he's scary," Harry shivered.

Draco laughed, a merry sound that rang clearly through the darkness.

"Thanks for coming tonight," he said once he'd recovered. "It was fun. Well, it was before Dad came home."

"It's alright," Harry smiled. "I'll just avoid him in future. Thanks for having me, and thank your mum for me too."

"I will," the blond assured him. "Night, Harry."

"Night," the smaller boy waved out of the car window, before the vehicle rolled down the long driveway.

Draco stood for a moment, watching it go, before heading inside. He needed to talk to his father.

---

Lucius retired to his study as soon as Draco led his friend from the room. Narcissa had gone for a bath, and it was the perfect time to do a little research.

Contrary to outward appearances, Lucius was not a cold man. He cared very much for his son, and knew that some people would try to take advantage of him because of the power and wealth his family had. Lucius wanted to protect Draco at all costs, and he'd heard the name Harry Potter somewhere before, he just couldn't remember where. He had to make sure it wasn't in connection to any crimes, and so he booted up his laptop.

Typing the young boy's name into his favourite search engine, Lucius eyed the results. There were several links to small art galleries in Surrey, and Lucius clicked on one. The page that loaded was an article about the opening of a youth exhibition, displaying the work of several artists from the area. Artists including Harry Potter.

Now Lucius remembered where he had heard of the boy before. He'd been having lunch with a business collegue, and had seen a charcoal sketch of a beautiful Chinese girl. It was signed by Harry Potter, and his collegue had boasted that he had bought it at an art gallery in Surrey. Lucius had made a small mental note to look out for more of Potter's work.

Well, that settled it. The boy could not be using Draco for fame and money, as he was a relatively talented and sucessful artist. Lucius could lay off him, he supposed.

Going back to the main search page, the Malfoy patriarch looked through the links once more, hoping to find somewhere to buy one of Harry's pieces. Another link caught his eye, this time to a local Surrey newspaper. Clicking on it, he found himself reading an article about a national competition won by Harry Potter.

About to go back, Lucius spotted a column at the side of the page with a series of other links below the heading 'Other stories containing the name Harry Potter'.

Interested, Lucius clicked on the first link, and found himself reading through a report on the death of Harry's parents, the baby boy being the only survivor of the crash, which had given him the lightening bot scar Lucius had noticed on his forehead, and the title The Boy Who Lived.

The next story was dated a few months later, and was about the boy's godfather being sentenced to life in prison after killing thirteen people. Harry was to be sent to live with his mother's sister and her husband.

Lucius found himself absorbed in the story of this young man's life, and couldn't help but click on the next link. The story dated back three years to the release of Harry's godfather being proved innocent and being released. Sirius Black was petitioning for the custody of his godson, saying that Lily Potter would not have wanted her only child in the care of her sister, but he refused to say why.

The next story was dated only a few months later, when Sirius Black was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, who had been recently released from prison herself. Harry didn't freature in many of these stories, but his name was certainly mentioned.

A few months later, Harry's name came up in the list of teens competing in the Tri School sports tournament. There were several articles, detailing the tournament, each one stating how the individual champions were faring. Eventually, Lucius read that Harry had tied with the other boy from his school.

The next set of articles were all dated from the beginning of that year, and came in quick sucession, only days apart. Lucius scanned through them, growing more and more horrified as the headlines and snatches of sentences flashed before his eyes.

_TWO BOYS KIDNAPPED...blood found on scene...THIRD FEARED MISSING...STALKED FOR MONTHS...letters and drawings...sick obssession...TRADGIC RESCUE...one boy dead...gunshot wounds...critical condition...SUSPECTED SUICIDE WATCH...GOING HOME...finally leaving hospital...MOST AWAITED TRIAL BEGINS...POTTER TO TESTIFY...GUILTY, BUT NO PRISON FOR MURDERER...no justice for grieving family...mental hospital..._

"Father, how could you be so mean!" Draco burst into Lucius' study. "Harry was scared of you! Why do you insist on acting like this?"

"I just want to protect you, Draco," Lucius tried to pacify his angered son. "I just want to make sure no one's using you for money."

"Harry isn't like that, Dad," Draco snorted. "He's far too nice. Besides, it wasn't as though he sought me out, Severus asked me to tutor him!"

"You're right, Draco," Lucius bowed his head. "I will apologise the next time he is here."

"If he ever dares to come around again," the younger man huffed.

"I'm sure you'll convince him to," Lucius smiled fondly.

Draco snorted, his eyes falling on the computer screen, which showing a photo of Harry, next to a column of type.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" he shouted, his anger flaring again. "You are unbelievable!"

He stormed out of the room, barely stopping himself from knocking over Narcissa as she entered.

"What happened?" she asked her husband, slumped at his desk.

"He's just caught me checking Harry out on the internet," the man replied.

"Oh Lucius!" she admonished.

"I just want him to be safe!" the older man defended himself. "I don't like to see him hurt."

"Neither do I, but you must let him make his own mistakes sometimes," Narcissa sighed, sitting down across the desk.

"You're right," Lucius sighed. "I'll talk to him in the morning. He'll refuse to see me tonight."

"Good," his wife nodded. "Did you at least find out anything interesting?"

Her husband's stare unnerved her.

"I think that Harry should tell you that in his own time," was all he said.

A/N: I know, I brought Sirius' death foreward, but it was the only way I could fit it in. I hope you liked the chapter!

Love,

Len


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Hey! I'm so sorry! I got caught up in work and family life. And then I got ill, and am now in bed recuperating. So, there's time to do some writing! Please let me know what you think! I love your reviews!

**Ch. 6.**

"Hey Harry!" Draco jumped out of his car and ran to meet the other at the school gate. "You know it's the Halloween party on Friday?"

"Yeah..." the raven haired boy stared quizically at the blond.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come to mine first to get ready? Blaise, Theo and Pansy are," Draco grinned. "You don't have to worry about Father, he and Mother are away for the weekend. Besides, he's promised to lay off you now he knows you're not my friend because you want my money."

"That's reassuring," Harry quirked a quick grin. "It's a nice offer, but I've been invited to tea at the Weasley's before the party."

"How about you stay over at mine afterwards, then?" Draco nudged the smaller boy. "I could probably do with the company. It's creepy in that big old house all by myself."

"You're hardly alone!" Harry laughed. "You have all those servants!"

"True as that may be, they are all uptight and boring," Draco leaned down and pressed his chin to Harry's shoulder, peering up at him with pleading eyes. "Come on! I need to have my Harry fix! I'm offering to share you nicely with the Weasleys, so say you'll come!"

"It's very nice of you, and I'd love to come," Harry turned sombre eyes onto the now pouting Slytherin. "But I need to leave the party early anyway, there's something I need to do."

"Leave early?" Draco repeated, incredulous. "Whatever for? I mean, the party finishes early as it is!"

"It's the anniversary of my parents' deaths and I usually light a candle and spend a little time thinking about them," the emerald eyed boy moved his gaze to his feet. "I know it probably sounds really stupid to you, but it's what I've done for years..."

"No, it doesn't sound stupid at all!" Draco protested, leaning back. "What time do you usually do it?"

"Eleven fifty-one," the raven haired boy replied. "That's the exact time they crashed. I let the candle burn until midnight."

"Well, the party finishes at eleven thirty," Draco thought it all through. "It'll only take about fifteen mintues to get from the hall to my house, and if we leave a few minutes early, there'll be plenty of time to get you set up."

"Are you..." Harry stared at the blond with wide eyes. "Are you saying that I can do it at yours?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "If that's your tradition, I really don't see why you shouldn't be able to do it as well as sleep at mine."

"That's...not a lot of people would appreciate me doing that at their house, though," Harry was taken aback. "Are you sure it's ok?"

"Yes!" Draco grinned, rolling his eyes. "So are you going to stay or not?"

"I-yes. Yes, thanks!" Harry returned the smile, and followed the blond through the gates and into the entrance hall.

----

The rest of the week passed quickly enough, and Harry found himself looking forward to Friday for the first time in his life. Although, underneath the excitement was the usual dread and depression that accompanied the anniversary of his parent's exit from the world.

It was Thursday night that the topic of the party was breached at dinner, Dudley moaning that he wasn't allowed to go because he had been given too many detentions to be invited.

"It's so not fair!" the blond pig whined at dinner. "I didn't deserve half of those detentions! I wasn't bullying those kids! It's the teachers who are bullying me!"

At the other side of the table, Harry barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Of course you didn't, Diddydums!" Petunia patted his hand. "I cannot believe that the teachers are treating you like this. I'm going to go to the school and have a talk with that headmaster of yours."

"I personally think the system is stupid," Vernon ground out. "It's unfair to leave out the students who have had more than ten detentions. Especially if those detentions weren't deserved. Those kids need to have fun too!"

Once again, Harry tried not to roll his eyes. The idea of not giving invites to the kids who had received more than ten detentions was to weed out the ones likely to misbehave and spoil the night for the ones who actually did behave in school. Plus, not going to the party was an extra punishment.

"But I really want to go!" Dudley carried on whining. "It's Halloween! I want to have some fun!"

"Well, why don't we all have a nice family night?" Petunia suggested. "We could rent some scary films and eat lots of sweets and chocolate. It'll be fun."

"Lots of sweets and chocolate?" Dudley asked hopefully. If there was thing that would get Dudley to forget the 'injustice' of not being allowed to go to the school party, it was sugar.

"As many as you want, Popkins!" Petunia smiled as her precious son perked up.

"Ok then, I suppose that would be alright," the blond, muttered.

"And the Freak can cook a special meal," Vernon declared. "Whatever you like, son."

"Actually, I won't be here tomorrow," Harry spoke up, meeting his uncles' beady eyes.

"What do you mean, boy?" the walrus-like man asked.

"I'm going to eat at Ron's house before the party," Harry explained. "Then I'm sleeping at Draco's afterwards. I'm sure I told you."

"You most certainly did not!" Vernon's face was rapidly becoming purple.

"Huh," Harry frowned. "Must have forgotten."

"Well, you will not be going!" his uncle slammed a fist on the table, making the cutlery rattle. "I forbid it!"

"Oh, well, I guess I'll just go and phone Detective Ryder then," Harry made to stand.

"And tell her what?" Vernon snarled. "I doubt that grounding you is against the law."

"No, it's not," Harry smiled, showing too many teeth. "But I could always tell her about all the things you used to do to me. Tell her that you're doing them again."

Faced with that eerily shark-like grin, Vernon swallowed, paling drastically.

"You wouldn't..." he muttered.

"Wouldn't I?" the teen replied calmly. "I think we both know I would."

"Fine, go," Vernon snarled. "But if you do, don't think I'll let you back into this house anytime soon!"

"Fine by me," Harry cleared the dishes and ran up to his room, shutting the door on Dudley's renewed wails on how unfair it was he couldn't go to the party yet Harry could.

_'Shit. I didn't expect him to kick me out,'_ he thought, leaning against the door. It wasn't the first time it had happened, though. His uncle got like that sometimes. He'd kick his nephew out for a couple of nights until Petunia got tired of the cooking and begged her husband to let Harry come back.

Sitting on his bed, Harry picked up his battered mobile and sat comtemplating. It was a pay-as-you-go given to him by the police back in January. He didn't like using it for texting or phoning his friends, since it was supposed to be for emergencies only, but as long as he kept it topped up it didn't matter.

_'Ron or Draco? Ron or Draco?' _he wondered.

Decision made, he opened the contact list, selected the number, and dialled.

----

Draco stood leaning against the side of his car at the end of school waiting for the others. Although he appeared calm on the outside, on the inside he was buzzing with excitement. He always did enjoy a party.

Blaise was the first to arrive, telling him the others were just stopping at Pansy's locker before coming out to the car, before slipping into the cool leather interior of the Mercedes.

Draco stayed where he was, waiting. Theo and Pansy had just exited the doors when Harry slipped out of the gate and came towards the blond, a duffle bag in hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he plonked the bag into the boot as Draco opened it. "I had to empty my books into my locker to fit everything into my bag."

"That's alright," the blond smiled. "I'll see you later."

"Bye!" Harry called, dashing off to meet up with Ron and Hermione just as Pansy and Theo arrived.

Draco slid into the car next to Pansy and Blaise, Theo having taken the front passenger seat to have room for his unusually long legs.

The Merc pulled away from the curb as Pansy turned to look at her blond friend.

"So what was that all about?" she asked.

"Harry was just giving me his things for later, that's all," Draco shrugged.

"Later?" Blaise questioned.

"He's staying over," replied the grey eyed boy.

"Really?" Pansy smirked. "And why weren't we invited to do the same?"

"I invited him to come and get ready with us," Draco sighed. Why did they have to be so nosy? "But he's getting ready at the Weasley's, so I offered to let him stay over instead."

"Are you sure that you didn't just want him all to yourself?" the girl teased.

"Maybe a little, but it is the truth!" Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Be careful, Draco," Theo cautioned from the front seat. "You've only known the boy for two months-less even. Don't let yourself get in too deep until you're sure you won't get hurt."

Knowing the tall boy was just trying to protect him, Draco smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

---

The Burrow, as Ron's house was named, was chaotic as usual. As soon as they'd arrived, Ron had been called into the kitchen by his mother, and Hermione had disappeared upstairs, needing the bathroom. Thus, Harry was left alone to wander into the living room. But not for long.

Ginny was sitting on the couch with a dreamy faced girl with long blond hair.

"Harry!" she cried, jumping up. "Here, sit down."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down between her and the other girl.

"Harry, this is my friend L-"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. "I need you!"

With a sigh of frustration, the red haired girl leapt off the couch and stomped into the kitchen. leaving Harry alone with the girl, who he vaguely recognised as a Ravenclaw who sometimes hung around Ginny, and sometimes with Neville.

Blinking sky blue eyes, the girl turned to him and held out a delicate hand.

"Hello Harry Potter," she smiled. "I'm Luna Loovegood."

"Er, hi," the green eyed boy shook her hand, a little taken aback by the strange blonde.

"My father is the editor of the Quibbler," Luna let her hand fall back into her lap, as Harry nodded in recognition of the art magazine. "He bought _Rose in a Storm_ for me when it was auctioned after the competition."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his art. He'd painted that on the porch at Cedric's, having sketched it through the window during a thunderstorm. It showed the garden in varying shades of grey, the shrubs and grass shadowed under the roiling purple and green sky. A flash of white lightning tore through the sky. The only other colour in the whole picture was a detailed red rose in the foreground.

"It's very striking, and dark," Luna continued, seemingly oblivious to the discomfort of the boy next to her. "I absolutely love it, though. I have it hanging over my desk so I can look at it every day.

"I heard what happened to you, and I must say that it was simply awful. It is such a shame, too, that you have decided to withdraw your talents from the art world. You have such a gift. It seems such a waste."

She stared at him, clearly awaiting a response.

"Dinner's ready!" Ron called, sticking his head around the kitchen door.

Harry leapt to his feet without so much as a glance at Luna, and grabbed a seat at the table as far from her as possible, glad to be away from the strange girl and the disconcerting knowledge that she had about him.

A/N: Well, that's it for now. I was going to make this chapter a bit longer, but I'm quite tired now, so I think it's best to leave it there. Please let me know what you think!

Love,

Len


End file.
